


Choke

by conormonaghan



Series: Choke [1]
Category: Justin Bieber (Musician), Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: Ass to Mouth, Bottom Justin Bieber, Choking, Cocky Justin Bieber, Deepthroating, Dominance, Dominant Shawn Mendes, Facials, Gay Sex, Hardcore, Humiliation, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Penis Size, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Pubic Hair, Rimming, Role Reversal, Rough Oral Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Spit Kink, Submission, Sweat, Underwear Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 12:04:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16994667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conormonaghan/pseuds/conormonaghan
Summary: It always starts the same way: with Justin Bieber on his knees.





	Choke

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> You can read early drafts of my future work as they become available at www.conormonaghan.com

It always starts the same way: with Justin Bieber on his knees.

Tonight, he walked straight into the hotel room just like this, shirtless, covered in tattoos, with his white basketball shorts sagging low beneath the cleft of his ass cheeks, showing off the cotton of his signature Calvin Klein boxer briefs. Shawn Mendes is standing in front of him, fully dressed from head to toe in black. Skinny jeans, a t-shirt, some socks.

The room is silent, so when Justin Bieber reaches forward to unbutton Shawn’s jeans and pull down the zipper, the small sound fills the room. Shawn stops Justin with his right hand.

“Take them off first.”

Justin peers up into Shawn’s hazel eyes. He knows what Shawn means. He’s nervous. In the past, during their sessions together, he has always been more or less clothed. Sure, he’s an exhibitionist out there, but in here he doesn’t want to let Shawn compare their bodies. Plus, the clothing allows him to hide his throbbing erection from Shawn, even as he obediently strokes and sucks and swallows whatever the boy wants to give him. In fact, that’s probably why Shawn is telling him this now. To assert his dominance. To humiliate Justin.

After all, Justin is straight. They both are.

Shawn doesn’t stop staring down at Justin, so Justin decides to get it over with quickly. He lifts himself up onto his feet and slides his basketball shorts down in one quick motion before throwing them onto the floor behind him. He turns again to face Shawn, wearing nothing but his white underwear. His bulge juts out from the crotch of his briefs.

As Justin begins to lower himself to his knees, Shawn stops him again.

“Those too.”

Justin looks up again, but hastily averts his eyes when Shawn makes contact. Justin hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his Calvin Kleins and pulls them down his legs.

Shawn looks down and for the first time smiles.

At 5’8, Justin Bieber is almost half a foot shorter than Shawn Mendes. He may work out and have a nice body, but at barely 150 pounds, he looks scrawny next to the 190 pound almost teenage sex god standing in front of him. Justin has no facial hair today, and almost no body hair, apart from a light dusting on his lower legs. He shaved all of his pubic hair earlier this week, and he regrets it now. Even though his shaved pubic area has the effect of making his six-and-a-half-inch penis look bigger than it really is, a trick he used to his advantage the first time he walked out naked for the paparazzi to see, it still looks modest next to the 6’3 boy towering in front of him, not to mention that a complete lack of body hair doesn’t scream masculinity. In fact, if someone were to walk in to the room at this moment, as Justin squats down on the ground in front of Shawn Mendes, that person would discover that even that intimate landscape between Justin Bieber’s ass cheeks, the skin surrounding his tight little pink asshole, is completely smooth. He looks like the twink of twinks.

Shawn Mendes unzips his jeans and slides them confidently midway down his thighs, along with his black Emporio Armani boxer briefs. Justin has long since lost count of how many times they’ve done this, yet somehow the shock of seeing ten fucking inches of huge cock hanging between Shawn Mendes’ legs never quite wears off. Shawn has started to grow out his pubic hair. It’s a full bush. His ball sack is still perfectly smooth.

“Hands behind your head.”

The first few inches are always easy. Ordinarily, Justin has his hands to help him. He uses them to work the stretch of his long shaft that doesn’t fit in his mouth. But not today.

Shawn senses Justin’s resistance, his fear. He responds by pushing another few inches of cock into Justin’s mouth. Already, he feels his tip press against the back of Justin’s throat, who begins to gag. Shawn withdraws his penis slowly, entirely, from Justin’s mouth and slaps the saliva-covered shaft against Justin’s right cheek.

“Look at me.”

Justin Bieber looks up into the younger boy’s eyes.

Shawn rubs the tip of his penis against Justin’s pink lips and then eases the head back in. He moves more quickly this time, but when he reaches the back of Justin’s throat, he pauses.

The boys are both here after a long day, and neither has showered since morning. Justin can smell the musk radiating from Shawn’s crotch, from his long, damp pubic hairs. The massive cock in his mouth tastes salty after a day spent confined in sweaty briefs.

But Shawn is a romantic, with an attention to detail. Yes, he can smell his own sweat, and he can smell the sweat that has accumulated on the boy squatting in front of him, but he can also pick up something much more subtle, much more intimate. He can smell the scents drifting up to him from between Justin Bieber’s ass crack. It’s not a bad smell by any stretch of the imagination, it’s just that intensely personal smell of boy ass.

Shawn breathes in deeply and then pushes deeper, his movements still measured and delicate. Nevertheless, Justin gags when the tip begins to sink past the back of his throat. Shawn pauses for a moment, and then resumes with the same tender pace. The sixth inch is manageable; the initial gag reflex passes. But the seventh is when it becomes untenable. Justin begins to struggle again. He moans in panic. His eyes begin to water.

By the eighth inch, he is retching. He involuntarily tries to withdraw, but Shawn grabs the back of his head and holds him in place. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Then he lets go.

Justin pulls back and starts coughing, taking in deep, hurried, frantic breaths. Even when the ten inch pole is fully unsheathed, long strings of thick saliva connect it to Justin’s lips. His own penis is hanging hard and dripping between his legs.

The third time is easier, at first. But suddenly, he has more of Shawn’s cock inside of him than he’s ever taken before. Despite his best efforts, his reflex is to pull back again, but Shawn has a much stronger grip on the back of his head this time, so there’s no hope. 

Justin has never felt anything like this. Spit pours out of the corners of his mouth with each cough and slides down his now saliva-soaked chin. The spit begins to ooze down from his chin in thick strings, some falling down to the wooden floor and some dropping onto his untouched penis. He can’t breathe. He thinks he might pass out. But then it’s in.

Picture it:

Justin Bieber squatting ass naked, just a few inches in front of a pile of his discarded clothes and white undies, ass cheeks spread ignorantly open, little hairless asshole on display, spit pouring out of his mouth, with ten fucking inches of Shawn Mendes’ thick cock stretching his throat and a hard-on hanging between his legs.

Shawn stares down at Justin. Justin’s eyes are bloodshot, swollen, crying uncontrollably. The cocky alpha is deepthroating Shawn’s cock so completely that his pink lips are wrapped around Shawn’s pelvis, almost as if they are desperately searching for more cock, only to find pubic hair. Shawn wants to give Justin more though, so he reaches down and locks his fingers on Justin’s lower lips and pulls Justin’s mouth open even wider, impossibly wide, and with his left hand he starts working his sweaty scrotum into Bieber’s mouth alongside the cock. Ten inches of cock, two huge balls, and some sweaty pubic hair to top it off.

How does it taste, Justin?

Shawn lifts his right hand to Justin’s head, grabs him by the hair, and tilts his head slowly to the side. Shawn’s penis is so obscenely massive that the outline is visible along Justin’s throat. Shawn runs his fingers along the raised skin, tracing the outline of his ten inch python. It’s filthy and unthinkable to believe that his sweaty penis is throbbing and slithering along the inside of Justin Bieber’s throat, but the proof is right here. He can feel his hand rubbing against his own cock through the skin of Justin’s throat. He can see the swelling at the base of Justin’s throat, beneath his Adam’s apple, at the point where neck meets torso, and he knows it’s his tip.

It’s so fucking deep.

Shawn is unbelievably horny. He slaps Justin across the cheek and then places both of his hands on the back of the suffocating boy’s head and starts pumping his cock in and out of Justin’s mouth. The pace starts slow, but then it’s vicious. He’s fucking Justin Bieber’s mouth like a girl’s loose pussy. His cock is so massive that he never withdraws more than five or six inches. The tip of his penis recedes just barely to the entrance of Justin’s throat and then plunges deep in again. It’s easy to trace its path down Justin’s neck. Spit is pouring out of Justin’s mouth now, onto his naked chest and the floor. His eyes are blood red, and the room is filled with the moist, sloppy sound of sex, with the sound of a saliva-soaked ball sack slapping against a wet chin, with the slurping sound of Justin Bieber’s bitch throat feebly resisting the onslaught of ten inches of unbelievably huge cock, the sound of Shawn’s deep, quiet moans.

Justin is on the verge of passing out when semen starts pouring down his throat. The tip of the ejaculating penis is lodged so deep inside of him that he can’t even taste it, can’t even feel the warm semen, so he doesn’t realize what’s happening until Shawn pull out enough to start shooting some jizz onto the roof of his mouth, and then lips, and his face, and his hair.

Justin falls to his knees coughing afterwards, long strands of thick spit and semen connecting his lips to the ground and the penis of Shawn Mendes like a spider web.

Shawn leans forward and scrapes some of his semen off of Justin’s cheeks. He stares at the white, creamy substance on his fingers for a moment and then turns around and bends over slightly. Shawn reaches his long, slender finger back and rubs his own semen delicately around the rim of his hole, coating it in a translucent white.

“Lick it.”

A barely conscious Justin Bieber, now on his hands and knees, lifts his head to stare at the ass in front of him. He doesn’t realize it, but he is the first person to ever see the puckered asshole of Shawn Mendes, set deep between two beautiful, spread ass cheeks. He will probably be the only one to ever see what lies between the straight boy’s cheeks. The tight untouched hole is pink, but surrounded by a masculine dusting of dark brown hair, soaked in semen.

Justin sticks his tongue out, leans forward, and flicks it against the semen-soaked hairs surrounding Shawn’s hole for the first time.

It won’t be the last.


End file.
